


Heaven Beside You [Clean]

by orphan_account



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nervousness, a little fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 05:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17017011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "What do you care what happens to me?" Troy challenged, moving his body closer to Nick's.Nick's response was not what he had expected.(The smut-free version!)





	Heaven Beside You [Clean]

The heat inside the metal box was oppressive. Sweat ran down the small of his back, soaking the waistband of his cargo pants. His dirty blonde curls clung damply to his forehead. He had no idea how long he had been in there, but the sun still shone brightly in the sky. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it until nightfall.

Troy knew this punishment was the lesser of two evils, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. He had gotten sick of disappointing everyone in his life, though, and if this was what it took to earn his way back, he’d accept it. The Clarks may have taken everything from him, but they had also been more of a family to him in the short time he had known them than Jeremiah had been in his entire twenty-two years on this earth.

It was their fault he was in this situation, for sure- but the alternative had been a more permanent fate. Troy had been ready to die, though. The ranch was his entire world, no one seemed to understand that. After being pulled out of school, he rarely spent any time away from the land. Seeing it taken over by the man he had been raised to believe was the enemy was eating him up inside.

When they came for his guns, he decided that was enough. He hadn’t expected Nick to get himself involved. They had been spending more time together since Luciana had left and Nick had joined the militia, but Troy was still unsure of where he stood with him.

If he had been merely unsure then, he was utterly clueless now.

He had been loading his weapons, Nick still pleading with him to surrender, but Troy hadn’t wanted to hear any of it. He was going down in a blaze of glory, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

Or so he had thought. He brushed his fingertips lightly across his parched lips, remembering.

“What do you care what happens to me?” He had stepped towards Nick, challenging him, expecting him to back down. To his surprise, Nick stood his ground. They squared off- chest to chest, adrenaline pumping, staring each other down.

Nick had moved quickly then, trapping Troy’s face between his palms and pulling it down to meet his own. There had been a second’s hesitation, their lips a fraction of an inch apart, but Nick quickly closed the gap, pushing his mouth roughly against Troy’s.

It had only been a moment, but the moment was enough. Troy stood stock-still, frozen in shock. His gun clattered to the ground, and Nick picked it up, quickly turning it on him. “Get on your knees,” he urged him in a hushed tone. “Trust me.”

Too bewildered to do anything else, he followed Nick’s orders. His friend had called their surrender, and between him and Madison, they had somehow convinced Walker that Troy was worthy of another chance. A day in the hot box had been the concession they had agreed to on his behalf. Troy had hoped he’d have the opportunity to talk to Nick before they locked him up, but Walker had insisted he be kept in the pantry overnight, with Crazy Dog offering to stand guard. 

Troy closed his eyes. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and the heat was making him incredibly drowsy. As he drifted off, he found himself more unsure of the future than he had been in a long time. He couldn’t deny that there was something in that uncertainty that thrilled him.

\--

“Hey, asshole.”

A sudden rush of air woke Troy from his feverish slumber. The sun had started to set, and the temperature change was drastic enough to send a shiver down his spine. Crazy Dog reached in and hauled him out of the box, not bothering to be gentle.

He stumbled, going down to his knees hard. Someone shoved a water bottle in front of his face, and he grabbed it, drinking greedily.

“Don’t guzzle it. You’ll puke it up,” Alicia told him flatly.

Troy couldn’t deny his disappointment that Nick had not come himself, which Alicia must have noticed. She crouched down closer to him, lowering her voice so Crazy Dog wouldn’t hear. “He’s on house arrest. He took a big risk standing up for you.”

Wiping the water from his mouth, he dared a glance at Alicia, nodding to her in thanks. She was very much like her mother- pragmatic and practical until someone threatened her. He hoped he got to see her ruthless side someday.

“C’mon,” Alicia said, helping him to his feet. Crazy Dog followed along behind them, gun at the ready should Troy try to pull any of his usual shit. As they made their way back to the house, Troy saw that there were more armed guards stationed around the property. He stopped for a second, the familiar rage boiling up in him until he saw Nick standing on the porch, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He raised his hand in an awkward greeting.

“I guess I’m on house arrest, now, too?” Troy asked.

“My mom and Walker had to run an errand for a few days. Nick will fill you in. It’s just until they come back,” she assured him.

Nick opened the door for them as they climbed the stairs, and the three of them made their way into the room that used to be Jeremiah’s office. Troy slumped into the leather chair his father had died in, sipping slowly from the canteen Alicia had given him.

“I’m going to stay at Jake’s tonight. Try not to stage another coup,” she giggled as she headed back out the door.

Suddenly they were alone again, in the same room they had last been alone together. Before Troy could say anything, Nick cut in.

“Walker and my mom went to some trading post to try to get more water. Apparently, your father was hiding more than skeletons in his closet.” He told Troy about the dire water situation.

Although Troy wasn’t shocked by his father’s deception there, he hadn’t known. Shaking his head, he swore under his breath. “Bastard.”

“There’s some wash water upstairs, it’s all we’ve got for the week so use it sparingly,” Nick said, pulling another cigarette from the pack and headed back out onto the porch. He must have sensed the question in Troy’s silence, as he paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“We’ll talk... later,” he said, without turning around.

\--

 As Troy headed up the stairs to his room, he wondered if he had imagined the whole thing. Was it possible that he had dreamed the entire thing up in some heat-induced hallucination?

Or worse, maybe he was making too much out of it. Nick had been trying to save his life, as a friend. The kiss could have been meant just as a distraction. He peeled off his sweat-drenched clothes, tossing them on the tile.

He wasn’t experienced in relationships, be it friendship or… whatever he had with Nick. Could it be that he was reading too much into it? And honestly, didn’t a small part of him want it to be nothing? If it  _did_  mean something, it would complicate things, and they were already living in a complicated world as it was.

Frustrated and confused, Troy scrubbed his skin with the damp washrag, but found himself unable to cool down. The heat was coming from inside him now. He ducked his head in the bucket of water last, combing his fingers through his messy curls as the water ran down his neck. Wrapping himself in a towel, he headed into his bedroom, hoping a good night’s sleep would help him clear his head.

Still too warm to put any clothes back on, he slipped underneath the soft top sheet, kicking the heavy quilt to the bottom of the bed as he tried to get comfortable. He had forgotten to draw his curtains closed, and the moonlight shone brightly through his window. Closing his eyes, he willed sleep to come.

He could not stop thinking about that kiss, though. He knew he hadn’t imagined it, and he knew there had been something behind it on Nick’s part, too.

 _Too_? He caught himself.

Yes, he wanted it, too. He hadn’t been grandstanding when he went toe-to-toe with Nick; Troy had no idea why, after a week of thinly-veiled death-threats, Nick suddenly wanted to be his best friend, but he felt the same way. Troy had never really had any friends, save for Mike Trimbol, who only hung around him out of fear. Rightfully so, it turned out.

A sick feeling twisted in his gut. It did bother him, what he had done. A lot of the things he had done bothered him, actually. He didn’t deserve any of the Clarks’ kindness, even if it was only being given to manipulate him to their own benefit. There was a rage burning deep inside of him at all times, and it took a lot of effort to keep it under control.

It exhausted him to be around people, constantly keeping that shield up. That’s one of the reasons he was drawn to Nick. They both had no problem being their own loathsome selves around each other. Both knew they were damaged goods, and they didn’t judge each other for it.

Just thinking about Nick was making his temperature start to rise again. He could feel his blood pumping in his head, his heartbeat drumming in his ears. Tossing and turning, he fought to find a comfortable position but found no relief.

Troy must not have been the only one in the house who couldn’t sleep, as he heard a soft knock on his bedroom door. Without waiting for an answer, Nick let himself in.

“You looked like you wanted to talk to me this afternoon,” he said, eyes roaming freely over Troy’s exposed chest.

“Don’t you think we need to talk? About… last night?” Had it really only been last night?

“No.”

Troy tried hard to swallow his disappointment at the abrupt response, but he knew he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it. Nick saw his face fall and quickly moved to sit next to him, taking his hand.

“No, Troy. I meant- I just don’t want to  _talk_ ,” he said, biting his lower lip.

“Oh.” Troy was shocked he had managed to eke out that one syllable because he had suddenly lost all capacity for rational thought. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before Nick found a better use for it.

Leaning in, just as he had the night before, Nick pressed his lips against Troy’s. This time was different, though. This kiss was softer, less rushed.

Nick put his hand on his chest, leaning him back against the pillows. He stretched his slightly smaller frame alongside him, never taking his eyes off Troy’s. The intimacy was overwhelming for Troy, but not in a way that made him angry or afraid.

He tentatively settled his hand on Nick’s hip, his eyes searching for permission. Nick granted it, leaning in and planting small kisses down Troy’s throat. He wasn’t used to being touched in general, but the sensation of Nick’s tongue as it trailed slowly down his neck was indescribable.

When he had finally discovered porn, much later than his peers due to his being home-schooled and rarely allowed off the ranch, he found he was equally turned on by both the women and the men. He hadn’t been sure how he felt about it back then, but he had really never been in any position to explore either of those feelings. 

“I- I’ve never done this before,” Troy whispered. He was hoping he didn’t come across as nervous as he felt.

“With a guy?” Nick mumbled, his mouth still working its way down Troy’s body.

“With anyone,” he confessed.

Nick froze. “I didn’t know,” he said, rolling off of him.

Troy kept his hand firm on Nick’s hip. “I want to. I just… I don’t really know what I’m doing.” He flopped back against the pillows.

Nick pulled himself away, sitting back up on the edge of the bed. He kept his hand on Troy’s as he stared out into the moonlight.

Heaving a sigh, Nick hung his head down. “I have to tell you something. And you’re going to hate me for it. But I can’t lie to you anymore.”

Troy laughed, “Really Nick, I think you and I have gotten over any bad blood we ha-“

“I killed Jeremiah.”

The heat that had been coursing through his body for the last twenty-four hours suddenly drained. He blinked at Nick, not sure what to say.

“It was the only way.”

Troy found his voice. “Get out,” he said quietly, eyes cast down at the sheets.

Nick reached for him, but he hit his hand away. “Get out. Now.”

He felt the weight of the bed shift as Nick did as he wished. He couldn’t look up at him. His eyes stung with tears, threatening to spill over.

As he heard the door shut, Troy rolled over on his stomach, burying his face in his pillow as he screamed.  He had never really stopped having the meltdowns that had so often resulted in him being beaten as a kid; no one had ever bothered to teach him how to control them. Over the years he had developed his own coping mechanisms- whenever he had started to feel edgy before, he would go hunting or work on the farm, pushing his body to the limit until he was too worn out to feel the rage. Being trapped inside was only adding to his distress.

Disappointment requires expectation, and he scolded himself for letting his guard down. No one had ever loved him, and that was not something that was likely to change. He was a monster, after all. Pain was what he deserved. He clenched his eyes tight as another sob wracked his body.

He hoped the men outside didn’t hear him. Actually, Troy thought, maybe it would be better if they did. They could come in and blow his brains out and put him out of his misery. Nothing about this was right anymore. After civilization had ended, he thought he was finally going to get a chance to prove himself, but it looked like he was just going to be a fuck-up no matter what.

Rolling onto his back, he stared at the ceiling, trying to calm himself.

The sheets had become tangled between his legs, and he clawed them off. Standing up, he pulled on a pair of mesh shorts he had left on his floor the day before. As the silky fabric ran up his legs, the light touch reminded him of the way Nick’s fingers had felt on his skin.

 _Fuck_.

What would his father think of him right now? Troy didn’t really need to ask himself that; he knew precisely what Jeremiah would say. He knew the words his father used to describe men like Troy- Troy had even used them himself on a few occasions. The only time Jeremiah praised his son was when he was parroting his own bigoted beliefs. It was less about hating others for him as it was trying to earn his father’s love. Still, it had warped his mind in a lot of ways.

His father had an easier time accepting him as a murderer than he would if he told him he was bisexual.

His fist clenched and connected with the mirror in front of him before he even realized what he was doing. The glass shattered, and Troy felt the skin on his knuckles split open. Pulling back, he held his mangled hand in front of his face, staring at the blood as it dripped down his forearm.

 _Who cares_ , he suddenly thought.

Really, truly, who the fuck  _cares_? Jeremiah Otto had been a racist piece of shit, and every fucked up thing about Troy had been his or his mother’s fault. Why was he constantly trying to win his fathers love? Even now, even after he was dead and in the ground?

Would he reject a chance at a real family, and maybe even real love, to carry on the twisted legacy of a spiteful, hateful man?

His father refused to sacrifice himself for his ranch, for his own sons. Nick had been willing to make that sacrifice when he stood by him last night. He risked his own life to save Troy’s.

Maybe the Clarks had done him a favor. They had set him free. He didn’t have to pretend to be something he wasn’t anymore – not that he had any idea who he really was. Jake had made it clear that he didn’t agree with his fathers xenophobic and homophobic view of the world, so he didn’t think he’d judge him. Alicia had obviously had some inclination, based on how she had left earlier, but he didn’t have any idea how Madison would react if she knew the truth...

Troy shook his head hard. He had to stop looking for validation from someone else. He had to be his own man, and do what he wanted to do for once.

He flung his door open and stormed down the hall, not bothering to knock as he barged in Nick’s room. The younger man was standing on the balcony, and he stubbed his cigarette out when he saw Troy come in.

“Are you here to kill me?” Nick asked plainly.

Troy hadn’t stopped moving towards him, and his long legs quickly closed the distance between them. He grabbed Nick by the throat and pushed him against the wall by the door, pinning him in place against his body. He rubbed his thumb delicately along Nick’s jawline, wet blood smearing a trail behind.

Leaning his head in, his lips brushing Nick’s ear as he whispered one word:

“ _Please.”_

He knew Nick could hear the desperation in his voice, and he made no effort to disguise it. Nick responded exactly the way Troy hoped he would.

Once again, this kiss was new, and Troy knew then that he would never get tired of Nick’s mouth on his own. All of the urgency of the first kiss was there, but there was something deeper this time, something more profound. The first kiss had been meant to save his life; with this kiss, the stakes were much higher.

Troy felt Nick’s tongue slide between his parted lips, probing against his own. Keeping his mouth slack at first, he soon felt bold enough to reciprocate and felt Nick smile against him as he did. He broke from the kiss and took Troy by the hands, leading him to the bed.

His breath hitched as Nick moved him back onto the mattress, positioning them so they could pick up where they had left off in the other room. Pulling him closer, Troy closed his eyes as Nick nuzzled kisses into his neck.

Running his fingers through Nick’s newly cut hair, he gripped a handful and gently tugged his head back up to his, pressing his mouth hungrily against the younger man’s. Troy’s teeth nipped at his lower lip, apparently a little too hard, as he felt Nick briefly wince away from him.

“Sorry,” Troy said sheepishly, shying away.

Nick stopped him from turning away. “Hey,” he said softly, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to ruin… whatever this is. I’m pretty messed up, Nicky.”

Nick pushed the sleeves of his flannel up, exposing his track marks; small pink scars freckled his olive skin. “Do you not remember why you sorted me in with the sick at the depot?”

Troy didn’t say anything. He didn’t like to think about that. How many times had they failed at killing each other before they got here?

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nick said, taking Troy’s hand in his own.

The sudden stinging pain brought him quickly back to reality. He had forgotten about his hand. The sheets around him were mottled with drying blood. Nick must have noticed at the same time, and told Troy to hang tight. Like he had any plans on moving for the rest of the night. Or the rest of his life, for that matter.

How ever long that may be.

When Nick returned a few minutes later, it was with some bandages and iodine. Lighting the small oil lamp next to the bed, he carefully cleaned and dressed Troy’s shredded knuckles. Troy laid still, enjoying every tender touch Nick put upon him.

After he had finished treating his wound, Nick crawled back into bed with Troy, laying out on his back beside him, his arms behind his head. Troy rolled over, laying his head against Nick’s chest. The two laid in silence, neither one wanting to ruin the moment by returning to reality.

Soon Nick’s breath became deep and even, and Troy knew he had fallen asleep even before he started snoring softly. He clenched his eyes shut and said a small thank you to the universe.

Even if it turned out this was the only night they spent together, Troy wouldn’t regret it. As he drifted off to sleep himself, warm in Nick’s embrace, Troy thought briefly that maybe he had died the night before- had he not known he was destined for the other place, Troy would have sworn he was in heaven.

 

 

 


End file.
